


I'll Keep You Safe (You Keep Me Strong)

by asukesay



Category: 19天 - Old先 | 19 Days - Old Xian
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Emotional Sex, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-08
Updated: 2017-05-08
Packaged: 2018-10-29 18:12:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10859355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asukesay/pseuds/asukesay
Summary: An unexpected heat presents itself as the perfect opportunity for Zheng Xi to realize the things he’s been avoiding.





	I'll Keep You Safe (You Keep Me Strong)

**Author's Note:**

> Stick it out together like we always do  
> Oh, there's no one, there's no one quite like you

It should be ridiculous - the way Jian Yi seamlessly fits back into Zhan Zheng Xi's life, like he never even disappeared in the first place.

Of course, it's different now - they're _both_ different now. They're older, more mature (or, Zheng Xi is more mature; Jian Yi has somehow managed over the last few years of absence to stay at the same level of immaturity he had in junior high).  They’re both finding where they fit in adulthood - in society.  

Zheng Xi thinks he’s doing pretty well – he even has his own apartment, now.  And a job; all on top of university.  

Even though things are different now, their relationship is the pretty much the same. Jian Yi is still his best friend.  That never changed, even when he was gone – even when he showed up at Zheng Xi’s door, taller and thinner and beaten to a pulp.  Even when, underneath the metallic scent of blood and hurt, Zheng Xi could smell Jian Yi’s Omegan pheromones.  

That didn’t change anything; once the shock of ‘ _Is Jian Yi really at my door?_ ’ wore off, all Zheng Xi could concentrate on was that Jian Yi was back – his _best friend_.   It didn’t matter that he was an omega, all that mattered was that he was there, standing in front of Zheng Xi with that same dumb look on his face he’d worn in junior high.  Knowing he was alright took precedence, both of their statuses forgotten as Zheng Xi adjusted to a life with Jian Yi once again. 

It really _should_ be ridiculous – the way Jian Yi comes back into his life and stays there; takes his spot on his couch and as Zheng Xi’s closest friend like the position was never up for grabs; and it wasn’t.  Zheng Xi won’t lie and say that he hasn’t been wary of letting people get close – not when they could disappear just like that.  He’d built up walls over the years, and he’d convinced himself he was fine that that. 

Of course, Jian Yi had no problem knocking them down.

Maybe at first, in the back of his mind, he’s hesitant to let Jian Yi back in.  Growing up without him had been shitty, the worry he felt every day for years was something he wouldn’t wish on his worst enemy. And maybe he’s a little bit bitter – that Jian Yi thought he could waltz back into his life without an apology or an explanation or anything.

But that’s exactly what he does.

And while everything has changed and everything is different – they’re both different – it’s also not.

But the omega thing – that’s… _that’s_ different. The way Jian Yi now smells sweet and available, the way that strangers look at him in public, like he was a piece of meat, the way strangers advert their eyes once they catch Zheng Xi catching them.

It’s not even like that.

Zheng Xi won’t pretend that he forgot what transpired the night of Jian Yi’s disappearance.  The way that Jian Yi, drunk and red-faced, had pressed his lips against Zheng Xi’s neck and settled a thigh in between his legs and rolled them like they’d done it a thousand times.  How it was overwhelming and confusing and once Zheng Xi really looks back on it, a little disturbing how much he didn’t even really _mind_ –

But it’s not like that.  And the fact that Zheng Xi was an alpha and Jian Yi was an omega changed nothing.  They weren’t going to stop being best friends just because of his biology, and Zheng Xi has a big ‘fuck you’ for anyone who thinks an unmated alpha can’t be friends with an unmated omega. 

That’s one of the reasons he lets Jian Yi crash at his place so often – it’s one part his inability to really say no to Jian Yi when he looks at him with that dumb pouty drunk face, and two parts the desire to prove that he and Jian Yi were different; that they could stay friends despite their nature. 

And maybe it’s also one part the smugness he feels when their friends (his university friends, originally, now somehow Jian Yi’s friends because the blonde had an irritating amount of charisma and could make anyone like him) argue the fact of alpha/omega relationships that weren’t based on creepy, carnal instinct. Some of them tease that it’s just Zheng Xi staking his claim – that even if they’re unmated, it wouldn’t be for long, and Zheng Xi is making sure no other alpha comes in and sweeps Jian Yi off his clumsy feet. 

Zheng Xi argues that it was a lot easier to let Jian Yi sleep on his couch than it was to worry about the drunk idiot making it home alright on his own.  He might not have been interested in Jian Yi as a mate, but that didn’t mean there weren’t others that would be.  If _anything_ , it should say something about how unbelievably kind and tolerant Zheng Xi is. 

 

And besides, despite his messiness and tendency to play video games with the television on max volume at 1 in the morning when Zheng Xi was trying to sleep, Jian Yi really isn’t a bad roommate. (Zheng Xi uses _roommate_ loosely, as he has yet to see Jian Yi produce even a penny for rent despite the fact that Jian Yi works part time at a convenience store down the street.)

He does try to clean up his area when Zheng Xi is at class, sweeping his beer bottles and fast food wrappers into a little pile, even if he does forget about them later and Zheng Xi more often than not trips over them –

He makes breakfast for the two of them on weekends, the smell of bacon and eggs wafting through the apartment before Zheng Xi is even awake. And then he sits at the table while Zheng Xi stumbles out of his room and into the kitchen, smirking like he’s successfully robbed a bank – like he’s done more than burn the bacon and undercook the eggs.

But Zheng Xi eats his meal without complaint, because after so many years of being alone – his sister and mother excluded – Jian Yi sits across from him, making a mess of himself because the man can’t eat anything without wearing it.

 

Zheng Xi won’t pretend that the omega thing doesn’t come up from time to time; every few months Jian Yi will pack a bag full of his clothes and things to keep him entertained, mock-salute to Zheng Xi on his way out the door, and not return for a week.

And when he comes home it’s different - for a few days, anyway. As much as Zheng Xi liked to pretend he didn’t pay attention to things like that, it’s obvious how different Jian Yi smells – how his honeydew scented pheromones burn Zheng Xi’s nose with the harsh smell of cinnamon that his heat brings.  How ravenous Jian Yi gets, eating Zheng Xi out of house and home, and how he sleeps for a good 48 hours after gorging himself into a food coma.

But after a few days he’s back to normal, and it’s only a few rare times a year, so they don’t speak of it.  There’s no need to.

 

All in all, they really do exist in co-habitual harmony, despite the alpha-omega aspects of their lives and the years of hurt between them. And it’s easy – it’s natural.

And Zheng Xi doesn’t think he would change anything about it.

.

.

When Zheng Xi comes home from class on a Thursday afternoon, he can tell Jian Yi is home without having to see him. He knows Jian Yi was scheduled to work in the morning that day, and he’d been gone before Zheng Xi woke up for his own morning class.

He calls out a greeting as he slips off his shoes, toeing them in line beside Jian Yi’s worn pair – one that Jian Yi returns in a muffled voice, presumably around a mouthful of food. Zheng Xi tosses his bag down onto the couch before he moves towards the kitchen, mentally reminding himself to finish his paper; the one that’s due in the morning that he would have gotten done the night before had Jian Yi not talked him into going to a midnight release of a video game he didn’t even want to play.  Sure, it was fun goofing off with Jian Yi while they waited in the ridiculously long line, getting pork buns after and staying up until 4 in the morning playing the game when they finally made it back home – but it would have been nice to have just gotten it out of the way.

Jian Yi is sitting at the kitchen table, flipping through a Shounen Jump, shoveling chips into his mouth absent-mindedly, crumbs decorating the front of his shirt.

As soon as he steps into the kitchen Zheng Xi pauses – not from the mess Jian Yi is making with his careless eating – that was something he’s long since gotten used to – but from the twinge of cigarette smoke that clings to Jian Yi, familiar and irritating all at once.

Zheng Xi frowns. “You reek, dude.”

Finally, Jian Yi looks up, pale brows furrowed.  Then, his expression changes from one of confusion, to one of understanding.  He shakes his head, breathing out a huff of a laugh.  “I know,” Jian Yi dismisses him with a wave of his hand. “He Tian stopped by the shop today – hung around for a bit.”

Zheng Xi ignores the curl of displeasure that settles low in his gut at the black-haired male’s name spilling from Jian Yi’s lips – the same way he’s been ignoring it since junior high.  Continuing this conversation will give him a headache, he knows, but there’s something in the way that Jian Yi’s lips tighten into a flat line; something in the way he looks back at his magazine like it’s not a big deal, like he wants to change the subject just as badly as Zheng Xi but doesn’t want to be obvious about it. 

Unfortunately for Jian Yi, he was probably the least inconspicuous person Zheng Xi knew.

“Oh.” Zheng Xi makes sure to watch the pale-haired man’s face for any signs of – well, anything really – when he asks, “What did that asshole want?”

Jian Yi’s eyes glance up from the pages of his manga, then back down, then to the corner of the table where the wood varnish has started flaking off.  He scratches the back of his head awkwardly, then brings his hand to the worn corner of the table, running his fingers along the edge.  Jian Yi clears his throat, not meeting Zheng Xi’s eyes. “I have to uh, go off of my suppressants for my next heat. You know how it’s dangerous for omegas to stay on them for too long without letting our natural heat cycle uh…circulate.”

“Right.” Zheng Xi says dumbly. He vaguely remembers hearing something like that during his Sex Ed class in junior high, but that was before anyone had presented – before it was relevant – so Zheng Xi hadn’t really been paying attention.

Jian Yi continues, tilting his head to rest the base of his skull against the back of the chair, eyes on the ceiling. “So I was just gonna spend the week at the heat house downtown. You know, because you’re here and there’s nowhere else really I could go.”

Zheng Xi kind of regrets asking, seeing how uncomfortable it was clearly making Jian Yi – and how uncomfortable this entire conversation was making himself.  He folds his arms over his chest. “What’s this have to do with He Tian?”

Jian Yi lifts his head and meets his eyes only to blink at him, mouth pressed in a tighter line than before. “Right, uh. He offered his…services.”

It’s Zheng Xi’s turn to blink.  “His services…?”

“His _alpha_ services.”

There’s a silence that stretches between them, while understanding sinks in for Zheng Xi.  He Tian was offering his…alpha services…?  Oh.  _Oh_. 

Zheng Xi is so caught up fighting the wave of nausea that comes from nowhere and climbs up his throat at the thought of He Tian going anywhere near Jian Yi during his heat, that he doesn’t acknowledge Jian Yi’s panicked reassurances until the blonde is waving his hands in flamboyant movements in front of him, babbling, “I said no obviously! I would never, ever sleep with He Tian, and I told him so myself – “

It probably says something about him – the way his blood boils even at the hypothetical thought of Jian Yi getting with He Tian - but Zheng Xi ignores it; doesn’t even want to dignify it with further thought.  He looks at Jian Yi, now standing in his seat, hands braced on the table, eyebrows pitched together in concern.  He’s saying, “I don’t need a partner, anyway!”

“You’re gonna be fine by yourself?” Zheng Xi asks.  While the image of He Tian and Jian Yi doing…doing _that_ wasn’t one he wanted to think about, he didn’t particularly like the idea of Jian Yi locked away in some pseudo solitary confinement for a week, alone.

Alone – because as strong as Jian Yi liked to pretend to be, Zheng Xi knows that wasn’t _only his_ biggest concern – that he and Jian Yi both shared the same fear of being left alone, again.

Jian Yi has been by himself since he was a child, knows more pain that Zheng Xi thinks he ever will, and he thinks he might actually rather have Jian Yi spending his heat with He Tian than have the blonde feel that sting of loneliness again.

“No worries, Xixi.” Jian Yi flashes him a smile so genuine and blinding, Zheng Xi forgets to get annoyed by the nickname.  Forgets about He Tian and everything else. “This isn’t my first heat – I’ll…it’ll be fine.”  

The careful tone of his voice, the swirl of uncertainty that Zheng Xi can smell in Jian Yi’s scent, makes him believe for a moment that Jian Yi was just putting on a brave face for him.  He thinks he should say something – anything – but he doesn’t know what he could say to make the pale haired male feel better, and from the way Jian Yi turns back to his manga, flopping back down onto the chair with an air of finality, Zheng Xi figures that he doesn’t want to talk about it anymore, anyway.  His window of opportunity passed.

Whatever; if Jian Yi says it will be fine, it will be fine.

 

 

Only it’s not fine.

They dance around each other for the remainder of the week, the calendar on the fridge displaying in red X’s how many days they have left before Jian Yi’s heat. The closer it got to Jian Yi’s predicted start of his heat, the less and _more_ he sees of the pale-haired male. Whether it was his biology telling him to get closer, or his own common sense warning him, Zheng Xi can’t help both seeking out Jian Yi and avoiding him at the same time.

He comes home from class and makes a beeline for the kitchen where he knows Jian Yi will be, and if he’s not home he slips his shoes right back on and takes a brisk walk to the store for dinner – usually instant ramen. He knows that he’s only going to the store to see Jian Yi, that as soon the bell above the door rings when he steps inside and Jian Yi looks up from his post behind the counter, his face lighting up with a smile, Zheng Xi remembers that there are cabinets full of ramen already at home. 

Still, it would be too obvious that he feels off if he just talked to Jian Yi for a few minutes and left without buying anything, so he watches Jian Yi ring up exactly 5 cups of ramen and a pocari sweat, pretending he doesn’t notice the knowing smile on Jian Yi’s face.

“Here’s your ramen, _again_ , Xixi,” he teases.

Zheng Xi will loiter for as long as he can before Jian Yi’s boss comes out of the back room, a sweet older woman who gushes every time she sees Zheng Xi, “Oh, Jian Yi! What a handsome alpha you have!”

It’s embarrassing, how Zheng Xi can’t even stutter out that they aren’t mates, tongue suddenly too big for his mouth, but it’s more embarrassing the way Jian Yi doesn’t even correct her, cheeky smile on his face.

Zheng Xi always leaves the store grumbling, bag of ramen in hand.

 

On the opposite end, the moment Jian Yi does come home, trudging through the door with heavy steps, apartment immediately filling up with his scent and complaining – Zheng Xi is quick to save his game, pretending like he wasn’t waiting for Jian Yi to come home before he goes to his room and shuts the door behind him.

Things are tense at night – something about the cool, crisp air and the light of the moon coming through the window makes Zheng Xi feel on edge – and he knows Jian Yi feels it too. It’s obvious from the way he looks like a deer caught in headlights when he sees Zheng Xi still awake and sitting on the couch – how he’ll tiptoe around the room, finding things to busy himself with and refusing to sit any closer than the opposite end of the sofa until Zheng Xi says goodnight and heads to the bedroom.

It’s hard to put into words, but Zheng Xi doesn’t like it at all.  He feels like he simultaneously needs to see more of Jian Yi, and also keep his distance; like he’s in a constant battle of tug-of-war with himself, only there are rules that make no sense and no way to win.  The only comfort Zheng Xi has is the fact that he can see the end in sight – the start and end of Jian Yi’s heat marks the end of the game, and the end of the confusing feelings swirling around in his head.

He can’t wait for things to return to normal.

.

.

Zheng Xi jerks awake in the middle of the night, gasping for air that doesn’t help the burning in his lungs.

He needs to find Jian Yi.

He’s not sure why that’s so important to him right now, doesn’t stop to think about it – doesn’t think he could think about it even if he wanted to, because the only thing on his mind is Jian Yi.  Jian Yi needs him, he needs help – he can feel it in the very depths of his core. 

He vaults out of bed and stumbles blindly in the dark, familiar enough with the layout of his room that he doesn’t trip over anything on his way to the door, yanking it open.  His eyes adjust to the shift in light in the hallway, pale glow coming from the living room and he’s drawn to it like a moth to a flame.

He relaxes once he sees Jian Yi spread out on the couch as usual, breathing out a shaking sigh of relief, but he only has a second to let the coil of anxiety lessen in his stomach before the next breath he takes makes him choke.

The scent in the room is suffocating – sweet and familiar and _alluring_ all at once

Jian Yi has cast aside the soft blanket he usually sleeps with – and his shirt too – leaving him in nothing but his boxer briefs, material soaked through with something that’s so strong with the scent of Jian Yi that Zheng Xi thinks he can taste it on the back of his tongue.

Zheng Xi stares because he can’t tear his eyes away; he takes in the sinewy muscles of Jian Yi’s back, flexing underneath the white of his skin, gleaming with a sheen of sweat, illuminated in the light from the moon that shines through the windows in the living room. 

He doesn’t need to announce his presence, he can tell from the flare of Jian Yi’s scent that the pale-haired man knows he’s there.  His back arches in a shameless display, and Zheng Xi follows the curve of his spine - from the dimples of his lower back to the notches at the base of his neck.

The sudden image of him following that path with his tongue flashes through his mind, so vivid it makes him take a step back.

Jian Yi whines in protest, releasing another wave of pheromones that makes Zheng Xi’s knees shake.

“Xixi,” Jian Yi whimpers, burying his face into the pillow. “I’m sorry – I thought – it wasn’t…it wasn’t supposed to be for two more days, I – “ His hands dig into the arm of the couch, fingernails scraping against the material with a sharp sound when he tightens his fists until his knuckles turn white. “I ne-need – I gotta leave.  The hotel – “

Zheng Xi’s reply is instantaneous, without hesitation.  “You’re not going anywhere,” he tells him.  There’s no way he was going to let Jian Yi go out in the middle of the night in heat.  He doesn’t even want to think about who Jian Yi’s sweet scent would attract, and Jian Yi certainly wasn’t strong enough to defend himself – not when his entire body was trembling, from his arms stretched above his head, to his bare legs, squirming and restless.

He needs to think of another solution – it’s easier now that he knows Jian Yi is okay, and it’s also harder with Jian Yi spread out in front of him.  Fuck, he needs to think.  He closes his eyes, breathing cautiously through his mouth because breathing in Jian Yi’s scent wasn’t helping him think about anything other than wanting to _taste_.  He has money, saved from his mother’s last care package.  He could afford to stay in a hotel for a night or two or…he has friends – from university, that he can call.  Maybe one of them would be nice enough to let him crash on their couch for a few days –

“Xixi, please – “ Jian Yi lets out a sob, something that clenches at Zheng Xi’s heart and makes him open his eyes.  Jian Yi is propped up on his elbows, staring at Jian Yi through the triangular cut of his elbow and his ribcage.  His eyes are glassy and wide, brown blown almost black, mouth open and drooling.

Forget him – he needed to help Jian Yi.

“Do you want me to call He Tian?” The words taste like battery acid on Zheng Xi’s tongue, instincts screaming at him to take care of Jian Yi himself – to take him into his mouth and suck an orgasm out of him, if only to make that pained, distressed look disappear from his eyes.  He shakes that thought away; he shouldn’t be thinking about what he wants, right now – he needs to focus on Jian Yi.

Not that that’s a problem at all – not like he could focus on anything but that cinnamon honeydew scent, so thick he can taste it on the back of his tongue when he breathes through his mouth in an attempt to clear his head.  God – is that what his slick would taste like?  Zheng Xi can already see it glistening down the smooth curve of Jian Yi’s inner thigh where the omega’s legs are spread open, displayed so shamelessly in his desperation.  He’s rutting in between the cushions of the couch now, mewling with every cant of his hips, boxers stretched to the absolute max.

“Don’t want him,” Jian Yi gasps out, voice breaking. “I want _you_ , Xixi –“

Zheng Xi should have left when he had the chance.

He doesn’t have the strength to think any more about anything – not when Jian Yi was begging for him, rolling onto his back with outstretched arms, chanting a chorus of, “Xixi, please, please, please – “

Zheng Xi could never say no to Jian Yi, anyway.

He crosses the room in less time that it takes for him to blink, savoring the view he has of Jian Yi spread out on the couch, looking so small and so fucking needy.  Zheng Xi’s arousal is obvious and Jian Yi’s eyes keep switching from his face to the bulge in his sleeping pants. Zheng Xi doesn’t know how to start really, he’s seen enough porn to know the basics but the reality of it is actually pretty terrifying.

So he does what he thinks he should – what they’ve already done, years ago – and climbs on top of Jian Yi, sealing their lips together in a rough, bruising kiss.

Jian Yi responds to it almost immediately, moaning into Zheng Xi’s mouth, tongue bullying his way past his lips, making the kiss wet and sloppy.  He’s already drooling down his chin – and in his foggy mind Zheng Xi knows this is the same Jian Yi he first kissed in junior high – overly eager and full of obvious affection.

But this is also not the same Jian Yi; this Jian Yi is older, taller, with a dangerous sexual charisma and a heat that seems to be catching, lighting Zheng Xi’s bones on fire, making it so fucking easy for him to pull off his lips with a gasp, to move his hand from where he’s rubbing Jian Yi’s stomach soothingly, shoving his hand down Jian Yi’s boxers, squeezing the wet, hard length that’s been pressing against his stomach a few times – enough to make Jian Yi cry out – before he pulls his hand out and yanks Jian Yi’s boxers down his thighs, cock catching on the fabric and smacking against his abs.

Zheng Xi doesn’t waste any time, not when Jian Yi rolls his hips, hands shooting in between his legs to urge Zheng Xi further, past his full balls to wear he’s _dripping_ , so wet he’s soaking down his thighs and onto the couch.  One finger slides in with no resistance, Zheng Xi watching Jian Yi’s face for any signs of discomfort, but Jian Yi’s expression is as lewd as always, blissed out, sightless eyes sliding across Zheng Xi’s face, mouth open, drool collecting at the corners of his mouth.

How the fuck could Zheng Xi have resisted him as long as he did?

"Xixi," Jian Yi gasps when he adds another finger, mouth parted, swollen lips red and wet like the tip of his cock, flushed and hard and leaking obscenely against his abdomen.  His arms reach up, grabby hands latching onto the flexing muscles of Zheng Xi's biceps, nails biting into the tan, taut skin of the alpha's arms, one holding his weight with a hand beside Jian Yi's pale head on his pillow, the other bent at an almost-uncomfortable angle, long fingers working in and out of the omega's slick insides. Said omega is babbling, almost incoherently, the words falling out of his mouth desperate in their breathless lilt, absolutely begging.  "Please, please -  _faster_  I need  _more,_   _please_  -"

He knew Jian Yi was absolutely shameless under normal circumstances - his (lack of) upbringing making him simply not know better, or perhaps he truly didn't care - having no problem dropping his pants in the middle of the street, or shouting the lewdest things at the top of his lungs just in the name of embarrassing Zheng Xi.  But now, with just the two of them alone in Zheng Xi's apartment, the brunette doesn't know whether or not to be impressed or embarrassed by the wanton moans slipping out of his best friend’s mouth - the filthy phrases that Zheng Xi is positive would make even the most promiscuous of men turn red. 

But it doesn't stop Zheng Xi from working him open at a pace that's borderline cruel; as pretty as the sounds coming from the hot, kiss-bruised mouth were, Zheng Xi doesn't take orders from Jian Yi - he never has - only pushing in a third digit when he feels the creamy slick gushing from Jian Yi's hole with every push and pull of his fingers.  Maybe Zheng Xi wants to punish him; the hot feeling curling in his gut that feels a lot like spite (like jealousy, a voice in the back of his mind whispers, but he casts those thoughts away) telling him that he needs to draw this out until Jian Yi is reduced to only his most basic instincts; until he wants nothing but Zheng Xi inside of him - until Jian Yi  _learns his lesson_.  But he's not entirely sure  _what_  he wants to punish Jian Yi for.

 

Zheng Xi has gotten pretty good at multitasking over the years (he has his university classwork and his own selfish stubbornness to play video games at the same volume he did in high school to thank for that), so while he curls three of his fingers inside of the squirming omega beneath him, keening so pretty and so fucking needy on his couch, writhing in his covers, spreading that sickeningly sweet honeydew scent all over the fabric, he makes a mental list of all the reasons Jian Yi  _deserved_  to be absolutely wrecked.

 

  1. Intentional or not, Jian Yi was a giant flirt. It probably didn’t help that he was naturally charismatic, naturally beautiful – pretty as an omega should be, but with the confidence and smart mouth of an alpha. He was never afraid to speak his mind – never afraid of much of anything – and that attracted alphas.  Alphas like He Tian.  Jian Yi never returned any of the attention he got, but it was still annoying – to see social butterfly Jian Yi basking in the attention of anyone other than Zheng Xi.
  2. 2\. He was in Zheng Xi's apartment more than Zheng Xi was; he didn't even pay rent.



That one isn't actually something Zheng Xi cares too deeply about. If he's being honest, he likes coming home from class and seeing Jian Yi spread out on his couch, hand down his pants scratching his balls in his sleep, drooling on his couch cushions, beer bottles spread out on the floor. It's familiar - comforting; every time he unlocks the door and finds Jian Yi trespassing, it's a pleasant reminder that he's here; he's not going to disappear again. And that keeps Jian Yi just shy from overstaying his welcome - the knowledge that as long as Zheng Xi's door was open, he'd always have a place to stay. He wouldn't just leave again - he  _couldn't_  – 

 

  1. He left.



 This Zheng Xi knows isn’t his fault.  He was _taken_. He can’t blame Jian Yi for that – not when he knows the pale haired male didn’t want to leave in the first place – he had no choice.  But without him, Zheng Xi had no choice but to move on.  Continue his life without Jian Yi by his side despite the fact that all he wanted was for time to stand still – to stay frozen in the same place until Jian Yi returned to him, because without Jian Yi by his side life was _terrifying_ -

 

 

Warmth cupping his cheeks snaps Zheng Xi out of his spite-induced lust turned sentimental fog. He looks down at Jian Yi, who's looking up at him with shiny, wet eyes, pale lashes spiked with tears. He rubs his hands against Zheng Xi's face, like he's making absolutely sure Zheng Xi is paying attention to him. "Where'd you go?" He murmurs, thumbs brushing against the sensitive skin high along his cheekbones. He draws their faces closer together, trembling arms seeming to muster the last of their strength to pull Zheng Xi down so their foreheads can touch.  "Please stay with me." 

Suddenly it's too intimate - too much. Suddenly, it's too real.  Suddenly, it's glaringly obvious to Zheng Xi that this was more than just some early-heat induced, spur-of-the-moment one night stand.  Jian Yi's warm breath puffing against the moist skin of his upper lip, the hands on his face now smoothing through his hair, the way those dark eyes looked into his and the way Zheng Xi didn't even think twice about giving his virginity to his best friend -

 

All at once it makes sense.

 

All at once, it's  _perfect_.

 

“I’m here,” he assures before leaning down, pressing his lips against Jian Yi’s and the omega surges into him like a wave, not as aggressive as before but just as desperate.  It’s different now, Jian Yi cupping Zheng Xi’s face tightly and pulling him closer like he’s afraid he’d disappear if he didn’t and it should be the other way around.  Zheng Xi should be the only one who’s afraid of Jian Yi leaving, as history would tell that’s the most likely scenario. 

 

But maybe Jian Yi is just as scared as he is about being taken away again.

 

He breaks the kiss when he feels his lungs burning – his entire body is burning and he knows Jian Yi’s heat has forced him into a rut.  He presses his lips against Jian Yi’s forehead.  “I’m _here_ ,” he repeats, louder, like a command, and Jian Yi stiffens in his arms. “You’re here,” He kisses lower – at the corner of Jian Yi’s mouth.  He can feel it trembling against the plush of his lips. “And I won’t let anyone take you again.”   He curls his fingers.

Jian Yi cries out below him, arching up so sharply, clenching around his fingers so tightly Zheng Xi has to bite his lip to keep from crying out.  It's good - so good.  Jian Yi feels like fucking heaven around him, all tight and velvet-soft and slick. Hiccupy little sighs escape from Jian Yi's mouth once Zheng Xi sets a rhythm, like he can't even breathe normally anymore.  The mood between them has shifted, but it’s just as good.  Better, even.

Jian Yi’s face buries into Zheng Xi’s neck, arms tight around his shoulders.  His hips ride Zheng Xi’s fingers, hole fluttering against him.  “Fuck me, Xixi.” He whispers, so quiet Zheng Xi wouldn’t have been able to hear it if they weren’t as close as they were.  He tightens around him.  “Please.”

Fuck – how could anyone say no to that? 

Zheng Xi slips his fingers out of his heat and Jian Yi whines at the loss, hips thrusting up instinctively, cock grinding against Zheng Xi’s, making the alpha realize how fucking hard he is in his sweatpants and fuck – he needs to be inside of his omega. 

He kicks his own pants off, gripping himself once his cock is free to relieve some pressure from his groin; squeezes tight at the base because he feels like he’s already close to coming, but something makes him look up at Jian Yi before he presses the head of his cock against his hole.  Jian Yi has stopped moaning, apart from his stuttering gasping, and he’s staring at Zheng Xi, eyes big and wide and so full of genuine awe it makes Zheng Xi’s heart swell.

 “What?”

 Jian Yi’s eyes are searching. “I dreamed about this moment so many times. I thought it would never happen.”

 That’s – Zheng Xi doesn’t know what to say to that.  So he doesn’t, instead choosing to kiss Jian Yi softly on the mouth, guiding his cock into that velvet heat.  It’s – it’s unbelievable.  Zheng Xi knew it would feel good but he could never have imagined it’d be like this.  It’s like coming home, he realizes.  Jian Yi doesn’t need time to adjust – not from the way he’s grinding up against Zheng Xi. He’s gone all slack-jawed again, dumb from the pleasure when Zheng Xi rolls his hips and hits that spot inside of him that makes him cry out.

 Zheng Xi isn’t going to last long – not with the way Jian Yi feels around him, not with the scratches Jian Yi is leaving down his back, not with the way Jian Yi is crying out, hand flying from Zheng Xi’s shoulder down to his cock to jerk himself off fast and slick, noises obscene and fueling Zheng Xi’s heat even more.  He’s going to come embarrassingly fast, and it can be blamed not on the fact that it’s his first time, but on the needy omega beneath him, pale hair falling across the arm of the couch like a halo, eyes heavy lidded and staring right into Zheng Xi’s when he arches his back, moan cut off by the splash of cum against Zheng Xi’s abs in between their two bodies.

 Zheng Xi can’t hold on much longer.  He needs to pull out, knows he should when he feels his knot start to expand.  But Jian Yi wraps those ridiculously long legs around his hips, pulling him closer, knot slipping into his sloppy hole now gushing with slick, catching at the rim keeping Zheng Xi’s thrusts short and aborted.  He thinks he’s imagining it, the chanting he hears whispered in his ear, head too hazy to trust his senses.  But the deeper he thrusts inside, the more he swivels his knot against Jian Yi’s walls, the louder it gets. 

It’s what makes him cum.  The realization that Jian Yi is saying his name, moaning it straight in his ear. “Xixi,” he gasps.  “I need your knot, please, Xixi. _Xixixixixixi_ – “

His knot expands fully as he comes, and Jian Yi cries out – not in pain, but in ecstasy, coming again when he feels the warmth of Zheng Xi’s cum filling him up, coming when he sees Zheng Xi shuttering above him as he spills the last of himself inside of his best friend. 

He collapses not a second later, making Jian Yi whine – not the desperate, wanton whining he’s been keening since his heat started, but a petulant, childish whine that reminds Zheng Xi that this is Jian Yi.  

 

“How long do your knots normally last?” Jian Yi asks once his breathing has evened out enough to form complete sentences. His voice is back to normal – if not a little shaky, and it seems that for a few moments he’s his normal self – if not a sex-drunk, hazy version. 

Zheng Xi grunts. “About thirty minutes.” Plenty of time for Zheng Xi to talk to Jian Yi without his heat distracting him.  Plenty of time for them to figure everything out.

Jian Yi is grinning, wicked and sinful when Zheng Xi raises his head to look at him.

 “Plenty of time for a handjob, then.”

Zheng Xi buries his face back into the couch cushion beside Jian Yi’s head, groaning. 

 

It was going to be a long week.

.

.

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**Author's Note:**

> lol i wrote this like 2 years ago and just found it in my old laptop files. i don't read 19 days anymore, but it will always always have a special place in my heart. i hope these crazy kids are happy.
> 
> kudos and comments appreciated, thanks for reading!


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